Tales of the Dragonborns
by Psybee
Summary: A collection of stories starring multiple Dragonborns. M'rasha ran her hand through her wild hair. "You left a frenzied woman who still retains the ability to transform into a werewolf in a room that she may be able to get out of and terrorize the countryside?" The Bosmer shrugged, "Why do say it like we did something horrible?"


**Disclaimer:** I own none of these characters and make no money off of them. This was done purely for fun. And because my sanity said so.

Prompt:_ So what happens when your dragonborns meet? Are they somehow married to the same person? Who really defeated Alduin?_  
_Or they could just be out drinking._

__**Foreword:** Nope, they'd be getting in so much trouble and driving the whole of Skyrim crazy. I haven't decided whether to make this a series of oneshots or not. So for now consider this story completed.

* * *

As the majority of Skyrim knew, Breezehome was the primary residence of one of the most influential and powerful people in Skyrim (others would argue, in Tamriel). So logic would dictate that Breezehome would be on a list of places not to burglarize.

"Got it!" A list that the two people who were currently breaking into did _not_ get. The door was pushed opened and two figures entered the small dwelling and close the door gently behind them. They were plunged into darkness but neither of them dared to light a candle, lest they alert the home's occupants or the guards patrolling outside. But the way the two maneuvered around the scattered furniture hinted that they had been inside the residence before and knew the layout quite well.

"Place is dark," the first person, a Bosmer, said as they peered up the stairs, "Maybe she's out."

"Nope. I see two people upstairs," the second person, an Orc, gruffly stated, "One on the left and one on the right. Follow me."

The intruders crouched low as they climbed the stairs making sure to step over the last two steps for they knew that those particular steps creaked loudly when stepped on. Once on the second floor the intruders resumed their crouch.

"Which side is hers?" The Bosmer asked.

"The right." And so, the two crept quietly to the master bedroom. The Wood elf intruder put their hands on the door's handle and twisted it only to find it locked.

"And here I thought it would be easy," the Bosmer sighed and pulled out a lock pick and a dagger, "Oh well. Give me a second and I'll have this open." Lock pick and dagger in door, the Bosmer began to feel around for the tumblers when a sudden light from their left side distracted them long enough for the lock pick to break.

"Damn it! I thought we agreed to no lights." The Bosmer whispered harshly.

"That's not me."

"If you want to keep your lives put your hands in the air," the person behind the pair commanded. They froze in place, like mice caught by a cat. "I said hands in the air. Now." Four hands shot up.

"Drop the dagger." The small weapon clattered as it hit the ground.

"Turn around very slowly. If I see any sudden movements, I start lopping off heads." They did as they voice commanded, turning while still crouched. They were now faced with a very tired, very cross female with brown hair. She held a rather large glowing sword in one hand and aimed it at the duo. In the other hand she held a lit candle.

"Give me one reason why I shouldn't cut off your hands and present them to my Thane?"

"'Cause M'rasha would be really pissed." The expression on the woman's face turned to one of confusion as she moved her sword away from the pair. "Elduna? Grakken? What on Nirn are you two doing breaking into our home in the dead of night?"

The Wood Elf and Orc grinned sheepishly. "We were actually looking for M'rasha."

Lydia let out a rather big yawn as she re-sheathed her sword. "She's going to be so mad you woke her up and I'm going to have to deal with her." Lydia sighed as she handed the candle to Elduna.

"We know how the woman is with sleep but we really do need her," Grakken said scratching his bearded chin.

Lydia shook her head and placed her hands up in defeat. "Fine, fine. Go start a fire in the cooking pit while I wake up the grumpy kitty." Lydia shooed them downstairs before unlocking M'rasha door and disappearing into the bedroom. Elduna used the candle to light the cooking pit before she and Grakken made themselves comfortable in the chairs in front of the pit.

"You don't think she's going to be mad at us right," Elduna her relaxed partner.

"Before the old Orc could answer they were startled by the sound of a door being flung open and listened, slightly anxious, as a set of heavy footsteps crossed the small hallway and descended the stairs. The owner of those feet stood before them, hair unkempt, wrapped in a large comforter and looking rather incensed.

"What you have to tell me better be important or I will turn you two into charred remains that even skeevers wouldn't piss on."

"Just hear us out," Elduna pleaded as she stood, "Me and Sylori and Grakken went to clear out Labyrinthian when we ran into this Dremora."

"A really big one. And minions," Grakken added as he got up.

Elduna nodded. "So we started fighting it and we started winning and then one of them hit Sylori with a spell and she got pissed."

"Killed the majority of them without our help."

"That sounds like a Frenzy spell," M'rasha said before letting out a yawn.

"But then she started fighting us. We were able to subdue her. And now we need you to heal her."

M'rasha looked to the back of the house and then to the front and then back at the duo. "Well, where is she?"

The Orc and Bosmer shared a glance before Grakken spoke, "Still at Labyrinthian."

M'rasha stunned look spoke volumes.

"B-but don't worry! She's safe," Elduna said reassuringly, "We put her in a room near the entrance."

M'rasha ran her hand through her wild hair. "You left a frenzied woman who still retains the ability to transform into a werewolf in a room that she may be able to get out of and terrorize the countryside?"

"Why do say it like we did something horrible?" M'rasha clicked her tongue and went upstairs. Moments later Lydia scurried down the stairs and said, "You two need to get out of here!"

Before they could even respond M'rasha jumped over the second floor banister and landed on one of the barrels sitting next to the stairs holding a giant black great sword.

"Get. Out." The woman growled as she leapt towards the pair. Grakken and Elduna backed away and collided with the wall. They slowly inched towards the door.

"Now let's not be hasty," the old Orc said but his plea fell on deaf ears. M'rasha swung the sword over her head and brought it down, slicing the defenseless chair in two. As M'rasha raised the weapon over head once more, Elduna and Grakken darted from their spots and made it out the door before the Khajiit could strike. Once they were gone, Lydia went to the door and slammed it shut.

"I'm going to bed," the Khajiit said, dropping the weapon. She walked up the stairs and to her room. Collapsing onto her bed, M'rasha pulled the sheets over her head and was about to go back to sleep when the sheets were ripped off her body. She glared up to see Lydia with the blanket in her hands.

"I hope you plan to replace my chair," the Nord asked. M'rasha sat up and grabbed for the fabric but Lydia stepped out of her reach.

"Well?"

"I'll get you a new one in the morning," the older woman held out her arms, "Now gimme."

"You are such a child." Lydia shook her head and tossed the blanket. M'rasha wrapped it around her body and rested her head on the pillow.

"Whatever helps gets you through the day. Good night."

"Good night, angry kitty," Lydia teased as she left the room.

"I **hate** you."

* * *

The next morning Lydia was finishing up a batch of arrows when someone knocked on the front door. Brushing the dust from the wood off of her apron, she crossed the room and opened the door wide only to have someone headbutt her in the stomach. She gasped and took two steps back. Her hand instinctively went to the sword at her side but dropped when she saw who had hit her.

There stood a woman with dark curly hair and wild green eyes, bound in chains and thrashing around. Whether she was trying to get free or trying to attack her, Lydia did not know. Her mouth had been gagged with a dark color cloth. And immediately behind the feral woman were Grakken and Elduna, each holding on to a section of the chain as they directed Sylori into the home.

"Hi Lydia. Could you please get M'rasha 'cause it's really hard to hold onto her," Elduna asked. Lydia nodded almost dumbly. She walked to the foot of the stairs and called for the Khajiit before sitting at the corner table. M'rasha descended the stairs and peered at the trio. "Well you weren't kidding when you said she was hit with something."

"Can you help her?" Elduna asked yanking back on the chain.

"Of course. First get her to sit in the chair and hold her still." The duo dragged the afflicted woman and forced her into the remaining chair. M'rasha sat knelt down and grabbed at the woman's chin, dragging it upwards. Sylori tried to jerk her head away but the grip on her chin was too strong. M'rasha stared down at the woman's face for a few moments before releasing her and taking a step back just as Sylori lashed out with a kick.

"Dilated pupils, jerky movements, and aggressiveness against others. Girl's been frenzied. Not to worry," the Khajiit stated as she disappeared into the back room. She came out a few seconds later carrying a large cooking pot and any warning whatsoever, M'rasha smashed the pot over Sylori's head just as the woman reared her head back, rendering her unconscious.

"M'rasha!" Both the Orc and elf were shocked by the woman's actions. Grakken let his part of the chain fall to the floor and checked up on the abused woman. A small trail of blood trickled down from a small wound on her forehead. "Have you gone _**mad**_?"

M'rasha waved him away. "Don't worry, she's still breathing. Besides, it's easier for me to give her the antidote. Here." She held out the pot to a still stunned Elduna.

"Why?" The Bosmer asked nervously.

"In case she wakes up. Or she starts to transform."

Elduna took a step back. "I'm not hitting her."

M'rasha rolled her eyes and turned to her housecarl. "Lydia? Would you mind?"

The Nord took the pot from her Thane. The Khajiit then walked towards the staircase. "Okay, give me a few minutes. I think I might have a spare."

M'rasha went up the staircase leaving Elduna, Grakken and Lydia with the knocked out Sylori. They could hear the alchemist go through dresser after dresser and two chests before letting out cheer. She bolted down the stair, holding a bottle full of red liquid. She went over to Sylori, tilted her head back, opened her mouth, and poured and generous amount down her throat.

Whatever was in the bottle worked immediately. Sylori let a groan and opened one eye. "What happened? Where are we?"

Grakken and Elduna undid the chains and helped the Nord to her feet. "Whiterun. How you feelin' girly," Grakken asked.

"Like I was smacked upside the head by a pot." The Orc bit his lip and glanced at Lydia and saw that she no longer held the pot in her hands.

"Well that's what happens when you go off and get hit with a Frenzy spell and no one has an antidote," M'rasha stated triumphantly, "Now if you excuse me, I have to get and get a new chair." She walked out of the home leaving Lydia with the trio.

Sylori frowned at M'rasha's abrupt departure and winced as she ran a hand across her injured forehead. "She hit me with a pot didn't she?"

Grakken nodded. "Yup."

"That's what I thought." Sylori wobbly walked to the door opened it and headed towards the market.

Elduna looked at the opened door. "Should we stop them?"

"Stop them?" Grakken and Lydia looked at each other for a moment before laughter took hold of them. Before Elduna could ask what was so funny they heard screams coming from the marketplace. Lydia jogged towards the door and stuck her head out to see what the commotion was only to duck back inside, out of the path of a giant fireball.

Grakken chuckled and walked to the pantry. "I'll go get the cheese and apples."


End file.
